All Chapters of THE WRONG MAN'S BABY: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Damian’s POVControl.It’s all I’ve ever known. Control of my company. Control of my name. Control of my emotions.But right now, as Ariana clutches her stomach and gasps in pain beside me, I feel control shatter like glass.“Damian.” Her voice is broken, strangled. “Something’s ....wrong.”My chest seizes. “What is it?”“Cramps,” she hisses, folding forward. Her face drains of color. “Sharp. Oh God....”I don’t think. I act. In one motion, I scoop her into my arms. She clutches my shirt, nails digging through the fabric. Her breathing is shallow, panicked.“I’ve got you,” I mutter, voice low, steady or at least I try. Inside, terror claws at me like a beast. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”Her head lolls against my chest as I push through the studio doors and out into the night.“My bag,” she whispers faintly.“Screw the bag.” My grip tightens. “We’re going.”The car is parked half a block away, but it feels like miles. Every step pounds in my skull. Every uneven breath she takes feels

Ariana’s POVI swore I wouldn’t let this happen again.From the first moment Damian Cole stormed into my life, I promised myself he was off-limits. The wrong man. The man whose twin wrecked my world. The man who thinks control is the solution to everything.But standing in his safehouse tonight, I can’t stop looking at him.The city sprawls behind us, lights glittering like a thousand watchful eyes. He stands near the window, jacket discarded, tie loosened. He looks less like the cold CEO everyone fears and more like… a man. A man carrying the weight of too many battles. A man who, for reasons I can’t explain, makes my heart pound like it’s running a race I didn’t sign up for.I hug my arms around myself. “You didn’t have to bring me here.”“Yes, I did,” he says without turning. His voice is low, certain. “Adrian’s circling. Vanessa’s stirring chaos. You’re safer with me.”I roll my eyes, even though my pulse stutters. “You make it sound like I’m some helpless damsel.”“You’re not hel

Damian’s POVI’ve faced boardrooms filled with cutthroats, rivals who would bleed me dry, and investors ready to tear me apart with a smile. I’ve fought Adrian’s chaos since we were boys, covering his tracks, taking the blame, swallowing my anger until it curdled inside me.None of it prepared me for this.Not Ariana’s trembling hand in mine.Not my parents’ eyes, sharp as blades.Not the hollow ache in my chest as I step back into the mansion I swore I’d never call home again.The Cole estate is all glass and marble, polished to perfection. Cold. Impersonal. Just like them.The butler opens the double doors, and I walk in with Ariana at my side. My grip tightens around her hand, a silent promise. Whatever happens in this house tonight, she won’t face it alone.We enter the sitting room. My mother is perched on the edge of a silk armchair, flawless in pearls and powder-blue silk, as if the cameras might barge in at any second. My father stands by the fireplace, posture military straig

Ariana’s POVBy the time Damian left for his late meeting, I thought I’d finally gotten used to the silence of his penthouse. The hum of the city beyond the glass walls. The steady tick of the clock in the hall. The way the air seemed to hold its breath when he wasn’t here.But lately, silence feels dangerous.Because silence means Adrian could be anywhere.I don’t need the headlines to know he’s spiraling. Still, they follow me like ghosts:COLE BLACK SHEEP LOSES MILLIONS IN ONE NIGHT.Adrian Cole Spotted Drunk Outside Casino, Shouting at Security.Twin Rivalry Reaches Boiling Point.Every article is another nail in the coffin of my peace of mind.Damian says not to read them. “Don’t give him space in your head,” he tells me, voice sharp, protective. But how can I not, when Adrian feels like a shadow pressed against my skin?Sometimes, I swear I see him. A figure across the street. A reflection in a shop window. Always gone when I blink.And tonight, alone in the penthouse with the l

Damien's Pov The knock on my office door comes just after dawn. I’ve been awake for hours, staring at reports, watching the city bleed into light, unable to shake the pounding in my head.It’s Marcus, my private investigator. Loyal. Efficient. Brutally honest.He doesn’t waste time. “You asked for everything on Adrian Cole. You sure you’re ready for it?”I gesture for him to sit. “Don’t hold back.”He drops a thick file onto my desk. The sound is too heavy, too final.I flip it open. Gambling debts. Hundreds of thousands. Money trail twisted through offshore accounts. Names I don’t recognize but don’t like. And then worse—connections to people you don’t brush shoulders with unless you’re desperate. Loan sharks. Criminals who don’t forgive missed payments.My jaw tightens. “How long has he been this deep?”Marcus leans back. “Years. He hides it well. Masks it with charm, with your family’s name. But if half these debts come calling, he’s not just broke—he’s dead.”The words chill me.